


It's Not The Weight Of The World, It's Just The Way That I Am

by Wand_of_Thunder



Category: Daredevil (TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Caring Darcy, F/M, Nightmares, Short & Sweet, sick matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wand_of_Thunder/pseuds/Wand_of_Thunder
Summary: Even devils aren't safe from the flu.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't see much Darcy/Matt love out there, so I thought I'd add a little of my own.

Heavy smoke, thick and gunmetal grey clouded her vision as she raced through the streets of Greenwich, or was it Puente Antiguo? For a moment all she could hear was people screaming, then sudden overwhelming silence. Frantically checking over her shoulder as she ran, she caught a glimpse of a giant, shadowy figure gaining on her, fast.

As she turned to keep running, her heart pounding staccato in her chest, a blood red mist enveloped her. She slowed to a halt as the mist thickened and threatened to choke her. Her vision started to go black, the last thing visible being ungodly pale skin stretched over a strange, but familiarly shaped skull.

She screamed.

Breaking the plane of the nightmare with a very real, desperate yell, Darcy Lewis was startled awake at roughly 4 o’clock in the morning, seconds before hearing the horrible ringing clang of something heavy hitting the fire escape outside her window. She bolted out of bed and promptly crumpled to the carpeted floor, her legs still asleep. A shaking hand clutched at her chest, adrenaline surging and heart pounding. Without thinking, she jammed her glasses on her face, accidentally jabbing her finger into her eye in the process.

For a frantic, terrible minute she was sure they were back, _any of them_. The Chitauri. Loki. The Dark Elves. But a muffled groan from outside, coupled with the white noise of the City that Never Sleeps, brought her back to reality.

She was safe, in her apartment, in New York. Thor had vanquished the Dark Elves. Loki was dead. The Avenger’s cleaned up the Chitauri. And her boyfriend was knocking on her bedroom window five stories up.

“Matt, what the _fuck_?”

Relieved, yet exasperated, Darcy took a breath to collect herself before getting up and crossing her dark bedroom to turn off the security alarm and unlatch the window. The normally freakishly graceful man clambered over the sill and stumbled in from the cold. He was shivering and his skin looked deathly pale contrasted by the deep red of his mask. She’d seen him bloody and beaten to a pulp, but never like this. In the weak light provided by the city night, he looked like death warmed over.

“Sorry,” he rasped, almost collapsing to the floor when he tried to take a step forward. Darcy reached out and steadied him as he swayed slightly.

“Shit Matt, what happened? Are you shot? _Poisoned_? I’m calling Claire,” now she was the one shaking as she tried to sit Matt down on the window seat so she could get her phone. Matt clung to her arms and frantically shook his head.

“No, don’t, I’m fine just-” he cut himself off with a series of hacking coughs, politely aimed away from her face, then attempted to calm her nerves with a weak smile. “-fighting a cold.”

“Uh huh, some fight you’re putting up there,” Darcy said, freeing one of her hands from his grip to pull off his cowl and feel his forehead. “God, Matt you’re burning up. What were you even doing going out like this? I swear, one of these days…” she trailed off, her face softening and rant losing steam. With the mask off she could see just how miserable he looked. The poor man could only breathe out of his mouth, his eyes were bloodshot, and his sinuses were clearly inflamed and noticeably swollen on his face. Yet he still somehow thought it was a good idea to go and fight crime.

Overcome with affection for the beautiful, stubborn mess of man she loved, Darcy stood on tiptoes and placed a quick kiss to his clammy forehead. She frowned at the abnormal pulse of heat beneath her lips. Her kind-hearted, heroic _idiot_ definitely had a full blown fever.

“Change and get into bed, try to warm up. I’m gonna go see if I have any Theraflu or something.” Darcy closed and latched the window, shutting out the mid-winter chill, reset the alarm and left to scour her medicine cabinet.

“Thank you,” Matt croaked, reaching his hand out to find the wall so he could follow it to Darcy’s closet where a fair amount of his comfortable clothes now resided. His girlfriend was a bit of a magpie when it came to his t-shirts and sweats, often literally stealing the shirt from off his back. Not that he really minded. He put up a front and grumbled about it sometimes, but Matt secretly loved when he went to get dressed only for everything to smell like Darcy.

It took some doing, his balance was off and his senses annoyingly muddled, but about ten minutes later, Matt’s suit was stashed behind the shoe rack in the closet and he was dressed in a soft t-shirt and a pair of drawstring sweats. He then sprawled himself out face down on the mattress, groaning into a squishy pillow and trying not to let the ache in his body combined with the sweet smell and safe warmth of Darcy’s bed knock him out too soon.

When she returned, bearing hot tea, flu medicine and a cool bottle of water, Matt could barely manage to flip over and sit up. The extra fluid in his ears was majorly fucking with his equilibrium. At least he could still smell the cool peppermint wafting from the mug of tea he heard his girlfriend place on the bedside table to his left.

“See what happens when you run yourself ragged for days on end and refuse to stay in bed with me?” Darcy scolded gently, taking one of Matt’s hands and depositing two oblong capsules. The water bottle got shoved into the other.

Matt pulled a face and she rolled her eyes. In his current state he couldn’t actually sense the frustrated reaction, but he knew Darcy well enough that he’d stake his own life on the predictability of her eye rolls.  

“NyQuil liquid gels, I’m outta Theraflu. I know you don’t like taking anything that could impair your ability to wage a one man war on crime or whatever it is you do at night, but Matty, babe, sugartits. Until your temp goes down, you are not leaving this bed to do anything but use the bathroom and maybe cuddle on the couch. So help me _Thor_ , I will _sit on you_ if I have to Murdock!”

Matt tried to laugh but ended up in a coughing fit. His throat felt like he had gargled a handful of angry fire ants. A forceful nudge from his girlfriend reminded him of the water she brought him, so he took a few small sips. Swallowing hurt, but the cold water helped calm the stinging rawness on the way down.

Another nudge, this time at his other hand, had Matt begrudgingly taking the medicine he was hoping to avoid. He got a kiss to his temple for the trouble and it was better than any spoonful of sugar could ever wish to be.

“Happy now?” he grumbled, a stark contrast to the way he leaned into her touch. Darcy let herself be pulled down to sit on the bed as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Meh, more like ‘momentarily appeased’,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll be happy when I can kiss you again without the health risk.”

“I’m sorry.” He frowned. The guilt that was always gnawing away in the back of his head started to try and force its way back into prominence.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind taking care of you, Matt. I love you.” Darcy paused to take his right hand and press it to her cheek. “It’s just easier when you actually _accept_ my care.”

Matt smiled both at her words and the feeling of her own smile under his palm. “I love you too.”

She hummed in response. For a short moment they just looked at each other - her the usual way and him with his calloused, clammy hand - and let the tender truth of the words hang around them in the room.

It had been too long since they had taken an unhurried, earnest minute to just _see_ one another.

Together they savored it; drank it in.

Until Matt’s coughing fit came back with a vengeance and Darcy had to retreat to her own side of the bed. She settled herself in under the covers and then rubbed soothing circles into his tense shoulders as he practically hacked up his lungs.

“The tea might help,” she finally reminded him, trying hard not to worry too much about the way his back heaved violently and the rattling she could hear his chest with each cough. She made the decision to at least text Claire his symptoms in the morning. With his head all clogged up by the illness, she’d probably be able to be sneaky about it for once too.

Matt reached for the tea and she was right. The fit gradually died down as he took a few sips between coughs and the warmth combined with the coolness of the peppermint did wonders for his throat and sinuses. He started to feel sleepy.

“You know, stuff like this might be easier if we, I dunno, um lived together? Like in one place and everything.” He couldn’t be sure, but Matt was almost positive Darcy was _blushing_. She was sure acting all embarrassed, turning away from him and busying herself with the contents of her bedside table.

A blushing Darcy was a rare treat, and he cursed his luck that it happened while he was too sick to enjoy it properly. “Are you asking me to move in with you, Darce?”

“NO. I mean, well, your place is bigger.”

“True.” He pretended to mull it over in his head when in reality he had wanted her to move in with him since week two. But he didn’t want to spook her. Commitment was a big deal for Darcy. For both of them.

“And _my_ lease is up next month.” Feigning nonchalance, Darcy turned back to face her boyfriend. She felt raw and exposed, but confident in the fact that Matt loved her. Confident that she wanted to share more of her life with him.  

“Is it?” He casually took another sip of tea to hide his smirk. But she caught on regardless.

“Really, Murdock?” she asked, sounding betrayed. “Are you really gonna torture me like this after I welcomed you in from the cold and am currently nursing you back to health? If you weren’t sick I’d-”

“Move in with me, Darcy.” Ideally, he’d follow it up with a passionate kiss and hours of lovemaking until they were so thoroughly exhausted they could scarcely move. But, honestly, he’d settle for _anything_ if it meant more of her in his life.

“Alright, sheesh. You don’t have twist my arm around.” He could hear the bright smile in her voice and it made his chest ache.

Well, ache _differently._

The urge to throw caution to wind and _just fucking kiss her_ was painful, and was only swayed by another wave of coughs. He’d hate himself if he got her sick. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3
> 
> I also made a tumblr for easier social interaction, so please come say hi there if you'd like.
> 
> citywallandtramampoline.tumblr.com


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